Fully Alive
by Rosalie Beckett
Summary: If there is some sort of afterlife where our loved ones can visit us while we sleep, I hope he comes to see me. SBHG.


I knew that once I let my mind wander it would never come back.

No amount of research I could have ever done would help me figure him out. I never expected to find solace and companionship in someone who aggravated and poked fun at me in the most harmless ways.

He had to be the most beautiful individual I had ever seen. It was unreal to believe that I could ever meet someone as flawed, yet as perfect as him.

He was older and troubled, as I was, and that fascinated me.

I wondered if he felt the same spark I did every time our eyes locked. I willed him to look away first. He never did.

I longed to know what his touch felt like. I longed to rub his cheek against my own.

Every time I caught him staring, I never knew what to do, because what could it possibly mean? Did he know how he made my heart flutter? He had to know, it was painfully obvious the way my eyes flickered back and forth from him to whoever was speaking during a meal at his home, hoping to catch the grey eyes staring one more time.

I laughed the hardest at all his jokes. His stupid, pointless jokes that I was forced to laugh at because they came from _him_. He knew my laugh, so every time he heard it he stared.

The way he smiled- oh, God. He was going to be the death of me. In a single day he could give me but two smiles and it still meant the world. Could he feel it? I wanted to know; I needed to know. I never thought he would tell me.

It was one night at Grimmauld Place where I was up at God knows what hour of the night reading, because books will never leave, when he talked to me. Finally giving me the time of day that I had been so desperately seeking for I didn't know how long.

He had that awful, cheeky smirk on his face that never seemed to leave and stayed constantly on my mind.

"Can I help you?" I asked, not bothering to look up from _Hogwarts: A History_, as if I needed to read it again.

"It's my kitchen, is it not?" He chuckled and sat across from me.

Damn, I thought, he had me there. "Sorry. Of course it is."

"Just kidding, love. Why aren't you asleep like the rest of your mates?"

"You're one to talk. But, if you must know I couldn't sleep." I looked up at him tentatively, he was watching me. I had to steady my breathing.

"Why not?" Sirius was one for questions apparently.

"Is it any of your business?"

"You're sitting in my kitchen at three in the morning: you made it my business."

I gave up. "I was just thinking about things."

"Like?"

Damn him. "Just people and the war. Everything, I suppose." _You_.

"You think entirely too much. You should be having fun and doing things eighteen year old girls normally do." He smiled at me and I thought I was going to pass out. I couldn't let him see that though.

"Well you can't say we live in a normal environment."

"You should be out going on dates and thinking you're in love and all that." Sirius gave a hearty laugh and his hair fell in his eyes. I had the urge to brush it away.

"I do love." I blushed, wishing instantly that I hadn't said it right after.

"Who's the lucky fellow?" He leaned in closer.

"Uhm, no one."

I closed the book and got up from my chair, planning my escape. I counted to three and was about to start running when I felt his arms snake around my waist. "All you had to do was say so."

His lips crushed against mine and I felt shivers run through my entire body. _This_ was what I had been waiting for. All those times I had been fantasizing about his mouth, his hands, his love... That had been nothing compared to the real thing. He told me everything I had wanted to hear in so many words.

--

I remember the day he died like it was yesterday. We weren't expecting the ambush the Death Eaters set upon us.

I never knew that Sirius could fight the way he did. It was amazing to watch.

I was hit and I had never seen such a fury in his eyes. It was as if the world stopped and he rocked me, doing everything he could to heal me. He had kept from me at the time that he was dying from the same spell. But kept repeating to me over and over again as he nursed my wounds:

"I love you, Hermione; I would die if I thought that anything would happen to you. Everything will be all right in time. I can make things right again. I can make it all bearable."

I loved how he could make everything about me and making me comfortable when he was the one who was dying.

It would be selfish to say that I wish he had let me bleed with him because then we would be together. But I won't say it. He gave up his life for me, and I could never ask for anything more from someone.

I'll hold on to him and his memory forever. I'll cherish the days where I can wake up and relish in the light.

If there _is_ some sort of afterlife where our loved ones can visit us while we sleep, I hope he comes to see me.

Because then he'll know how much I love him and that I think about him, and only him. That he consumes me. That he was the only thing worth living for and still is. The only thing that keeps me going.

The true meaning of the word soulmate was Sirius.

_A/N: This came to me randomly during my History of Film class while watching Dr. Stranglelove (don't ask) and I guess I've always wanted to write something like this. I'm sure you can insert and assume that certain people didn't die __**yet**__ and things like that. I'm not a sadist- well maybe just a little- I just think that certain people need to die here and there. I hope you enjoyed!_


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